


Sex Therapy

by Legna



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: BDSM, Barebacking, Casual Sex, Daddy Issues, Dirty Talk, Doctor/Patient, Dom!Harry, Dom/sub, Explicit Language, F/M, M/M, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Riding, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Smut, Unresolved Emotional Tension, sub!zayn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 18:12:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legna/pseuds/Legna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry listens to other people's problems for a living and he gets paid for it but the money is not enough so he gives a little extra in his sessions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fuckin' Problems

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long ass time ago but never posted it because I thought it sucked..
> 
> It's sex with a plot though.

There’s nothing worse….than opening a mail and to read a letter, typed with words of a warning, a warning that just clearly states, if you don’t pay back your loans, your own checks could get taken and you can never get a tax refund. The credit score could be ruined and there’s a high chance of drowning in debt. Harry refused to have that happen to him. He tore up the letter into pieces, brushing it out of his lap and onto the floor. “Fuck….fuck. What am I supposed to do?” 

He didn’t think that borrowing over $20,000 in student loans would have this type of consequence. He’s thankful that he got his master’s degree, graduated and managed to find a job: being a psychologist. The salary is good but not good enough for his taste and the bills. He even tried resorting to an apartment from a condo; it’s easier, especially when living on one’s own. No roommates, no problems and no bullshit.

“What… what can I do?” He could try bringing in more patients, and circulates advertisement to help for his business. But, of course that means more money. More money to pay for more advertisement. He pounded his fist on the wall as he got up from his bed. “Fuck! Aah!” He might have fractured his fist and now he has to explain the injured hand to his supervisor but who gives a shit? Harry has got problems.

****

“I’m sorry but we can’t help you, Mr. Styles. I highly suggest you go to a credit counselor or better yet, file for bankruptcy.” A tanned, older man with salt and pepper hair and an incredibly large mustache, sat in his leather, executive chair and his face settled in a smug expression; Harry found it quite annoying and wanted to slap the look out of the old man.

“Bankruptcy? I can’t do that. That would take too much time or ruined me.” Harry doesn’t know how this debate will go on but he has to win if he wants to consolidate for his debt. “Please, I’m begging you to help me.” It didn’t seem as though Harry were begging, physically but verbally, he think he is.

“Please, Mr. Logan, I need help. I’m desperate.” He tried to sound as sincere as possible but apparently the bank teller wasn’t going for it.

“I apologize deeply, Mr. Styles but I can’t help you. We just can’t settle for the amount you owe. If you don’t agree with the route of filing for bankruptcy, then maybe it’s best if you get a second job.”

“What!” Harry palmed his mouth after shouting in a hushed environment. “Sorry…sorry. I already have a job and it’s quite a handful. I have bills, I have the loans to pay off and…other things. Now, I have to settle in another job?”

Mr. Logan moved closer to Harry, attempting his best to reassure his bewildered customer and regular subscriber. “Try to budget, cut some things off. That’s all of the options I could think of for you.”

Harry nodded and got up from the chair in front of Mr. Logan’s desk, patted down his own casual shirt and suede jacket. It’s his own way of exiting with class and grace; to dust off the negatives. He just simply said: “Thank you. Have a nice day.” 

Logan almost believed the fake smile that Harry gave him until he heard a distant “Fuck your options” as Harry walked away and out of the bank.

****

Tomorrow is Monday; a day of work. The tasks of listening to other people’s problems and diagnosing their underlying issues then a coffee break, slight flirting with the assistant/receptionist, some small thoughts of fucking the hell of the young, pretty dark haired girl, finish the coffee, complete paperwork then move on to next client. 

That is on repeat for seven hours. Harry could stand it some days and some days, he can’t. There’s an itching feeling he has that he can’t itch; Tomorrow will be different. How? Why?

He can’t clarify it so he gets drunk tonight. He invited his friend, Zoe, to a club so he won’t be alone, just in case if he can’t get play from any woman or man he has interest in. 

“What about her?” Zoe asked, sipping straight from the beer bottle while Harry sips on a grey goose martini, sitting at the bar.

Harry’s eyes followed to where Zoe pointed and his head instantly shook side to side. “She wouldn’t be….she wouldn’t like me.” His slurring is almost noticeable and Zoe giggled at his demeanor. 

“Of course she wouldn’t like you if you’re drinking like a twinklet.”

“Fuck you, Zoe.”

“You wish, sweetheart. Too bad, I go for my own team.” Zoe patted his back then leaves to converse with the girl she had her eye on. After a few minutes, Zoe and the strange girl are already making out, slowly and softly grinds to the music, being in their own little lesbian world. 

Harry is a little jealous of Zoe’s game and ability to meet any kind of woman and to turn her out. Perhaps the strange girl is really drunk or just don’t give a fuck; either way it annoys Harry. He orders his fifth drink for the night and the room becomes faintly hazy, the music is slower and the people around him look more beautiful and handsome. He doesn’t know where his friend is and he doesn’t care. He just wants to have sex.

He've tried sparking up conversations with whoever stand nearby him but they all ignored him or rejected him. He decided to end the night by going home.

****

Zoe struggled to get Harry out of the taxi and to his apartment. He's singing and belching loudly and grabbing onto her. She certainly can't wait to put him to bed. 

"I'm in the mood....to fuck you." Harry sings, tapping his index finger on her nose. He giggles after that, nearly falling to the floor.

"Yeah, I bet you are." She remarks, rolling her eyes.

They make it to the floor of the apartment building and she managed to get his keys, unlocking the door and escorts him inside then shuts the door closed with her foot.

"Okay, in bed we go..." She drags him to his bedroom, gently pushing him on the bed. "I have to go. I love you. If you have to throw up...." She pushes the trash bin closer to the bed. "There it is, okay?" She kiss him on the forehead, then gave him a small hug.

"Wait, Zoe." Harry's eyes are glossy and red, full of lust. "Can I fuck you?" 

Zoe laughs softly, huffing at Harry. "No, dear. I like pussy. And you sir, don't have one."

Harry pouts, making it dramatically obvious. "That's racist."

Zoe laughs at him again. Harry always says something ridiculous and she could have an honest good laugh because of him. "Race have nothin' to do with it. Harry, you're drunk. Go to sleep."

"Can we kiss? Just one kiss." He bites his lips, looking her up and down then at her lips. She have pretty, full lips and he want to test them, if she would let him. 

She seem to consider it, making a grimaced expression then sat down on the bed with Harry. "Alright. A kiss wouldn't hurt." She places her hands on his face, and Harry puts a hand on her thigh, savoring this little moment with his lesbian, black friend.

It's long and slow, the kiss. He loved how she took control, using tongue to lick onto his, and biting on his bottom lip. Obviously, she's dominant and that turns Harry on. His cock is getting harder as she moans in the kiss. 

"Lesbian, huh?" He asks, breaking the kiss then reconnects his lips on hers. Zoe giggles at his comment, shifting her body closer to Harry. This is a good time to make the move, he thought. He removes her right hand from his face, bringing it down to touch the outline of his cock.

The kiss stops at that. She stands awkwardly, staring down at Harry. "That was a nice kiss. Good night."

"Fuck, you're leaving me dry like this?" 

"You did that to yourself." She says on her way out.

Harry heard the door slammed shut and he falls back on his bed, ignoring his erection and wonders on why he can't get laid.


	2. A Rock Hard Morning

Clearly....it was a bad idea to drink the night before. Going to work with a hangover is a bitch, a struggle, an end of the world type of shit. Harry walks slowly, holding onto his jacket and briefcase as if they were lifelines. He's cursing in his head because he's literally feels so bad that he can't speak. He think that if he speak, vomit will fly out of his mouth.

"Good Morning, Dr. Styles....Are you...are you feeling alright?" Farrah, the receptionist asks, stopping with a cup of coffee in her hand. She notice that he have dark sunglasses on. He's hiding his huge eyebags.

He nodded, not speaking and continues to walk to his office but as slow as a turtle. He gently closes the door behind him, dropping everything on the floor then sinks down on the lounge chair. "For fuck's sake..." He rubs his temples and closes his eyes, nearly drifting off to sleep until Farrah comes in. His body reacted, sitting up immediately then Harry groans from the rush of pain and heaviness.

"Your client will be here in about a half hour!" She warns. Her voice was way too loud and it pierced Harry's eardrums, pounding through his skull. Thank god that's all she had to say then left.

"Loud ass bitch." He mumbles, lying back slowly on the chair to sleep. It's better to get a quick nap than to get started on work already.

****

The first client was a female. Older, black hair with hint of gray, a little on the heavy side and likable personality. She had assumptions about her family and truly believes that they are using voodoo against her. Harry had to let her go.

"Here's a card for Dr. Mitchell. She can help you with this problem, for sure." Harry gave her a card and a smile. The lady thanked him and left. As soon as she was out of earshot, he shook his head, widening ahis eyes at how crazy the session was. 

He took a quick shot of tequila from a mini bottle to calm down the pounding in his head and to relax. He's feeling a little better since this morning but he still feels like crap. 

Farrah comes in the office again. "Your next client will be here in a few minutes. He had to use the restroom." 

"Sure, okay." Harrys nods, leaning back in his chair and waits. 

****

It is easy to ignore the queasiness, the headache and the terrible feelings yet it's so hard to focus on the words that are coming out of such a gorgeous person's mouth because, this new patient of Harry's, is perfect visually and Harry can't stop staring at those lips.

"Yeah, uh and she cheated on me, like twice and like, I was really hurt and all but at the same time, I'm glad it happened because I got a chance to start new and to move on and stuff." 

Harry got back to reality when his patient finished talking. "So Zayn, how are you feeling about being where you are? Moving and all those things?"

Zayn nods approvingly, raising his eyebrows up in an excited manner. "Good, great! I love it here and um, I'm trying new things. You know, some really new things that I never expected to try but...there's a first time for everything, I guess and there's reasons why experiments exists." He laughs to himself, looking down and plays with his fingers.

Harry found his shyness to be cute. Zayn does this thing when he blush and it's fucking cute, Harry want to see it again.

'Why do you mean by that, Zayn? If you don't mind sharing..."

"Well, this isn't easy to share."

Harry advises quickly, "No thing is ever easy, don't you think? Most things though. And remember, no judgments are made." He gives a smile and Zayn believes it.

"Okay...well. I always knew I was straight. I'm attracted to women physically and emotionally but I met someone...a guy and I don't know...it was different. At first, it started out as innocent, strictly platonic and comfortable. Then it got a little too comfortable. There's skin exposed, some looking then some thoughts and finally.....something actually happen. Zayn sighs after rambling. "Overall, I think I might be gay for some guy. Or bi-curious." He confesses and Harry can feel his heart sinking, in a good way. And his dick rose to attention as well.

He's yelling at his dick inside of his head, forcing it to calm the fuck down and no, you can't fuck this man because we have to stay professional. 

Harry is slowly losing so he places his clip board on top of his thighs, covering his boner. He have tight pants on and it's insanely obvious. "That's not a bad thing, Zayn. If you want something, go for it. Don't let fear stand in your way."

Zayn scoffed at his therapist. "Good advice. You should be a motivational speaker. But you're late anyway."

Harry furrows his eyebrows, blinking his eyes around the room then at Zayn. "What do you mean?"

"I already fucked him. So letting fear stand in the way wasn't even an issue." Zayn blushes, almost giggling. Harry is harder now, hearing the word "fucked". The lucky bastard is coming out just recently and he already got some. Harry has been bi for the rest of his life. The last time he had sex was eight months ago.....so what the hell.

"It's the feelings that I'm worried about. Not the sex." Zayn mentions, trying to keep a straight face and remain serious.

"Oh, right. Of course, it starts to get complicated when feelings get involved, right? I suggest that you talk to this guy and see what's going on with him. Understand what he is feeling as well. If you guys can get on the same page, then who knows? Maybe something will happen....something good." Harry smiles, feeling hopeful that he had helped start a possible wonderful relationship between two people. It always make him feel good to resolve one's issue and there's a happy ending.

Zayn bites his lips nervously, tapping his fingers together and looking down at his Nike shoes. "Yeah, you're right." He say in a quiet voice. "I should talk to him and see what happens."

"Great." Harry took a quick glance at the clock. "We have about fifteen minutes left. Is there anything else you want to share?" 

Zayn smirks, leaning back in the chair. He stops acting nervous somehow, like he changed into a new person; more confident and sure. He plays with the back of his head, combing his fingers through his dark hair and stares at his therapist.

"Yes...I have a question. What was on your mind for your dick to get hard like that?" Zayn bites his lips again, after asking.

Harry wants to die.


	3. The First Customer

Is it better to tell the truth or lie? Or sugarcoat? Perhap deny? What's the best option to do when you have an erection painfully throbbing under tight pants and someone, a patient, had saw it? Worst of all, asked about it.

"Uh...uh, shit." Harry mumbles under his breath. "Maybe we should end the session now. This isn't something to discuss right now." 

Zayn isn't moving. He's curious and a little devious. "Are you gay, Dr. Styles? I didn't know that. I couldn't sense it."

"What?! No, I'm not gay!" Harry sputters. "It's not your business. My sexual orientation is none of your business." Although he's defending himself, he still feel like he's losing.

"Then why are you hard?" Zayn asks, sitting up and leans in closer to Harry. "Are you bi-curious too?"

Might as well be honest. "Bisexual. Let's move on. Is there anything else you want to talk about?" Harry is becoming annoyed, still hiding his covered erection.

Zayn sits back again. He's not going to let go of the conversation. 'Was I turning you on? Or you just randomly thought of doing stuff to me? Or do you have an unknown medical issue and your dick gets hard for no reason? Come on, Dr. Styles. Enlighten me."

"Zayn...please ignore it and let's move on." Harry says through his teeth, becoming more and more frustrated. He got up from his chair, going to the door and points at it. "You have to leave. The session's over."

Zayn rolls his eyes, pushing himself off from the lounge chair, muttering a "fine". He stops in front of Harry, looking him up and down for a last time. "You're really attractive, by the way. Your boyfriend....or girlfriend is lucky." His smile was small and sad. Harry feels bad for being a dick. Yeah, the situation was embarrassing but it's something to laugh about than to get mad at.

As soon as Zayn opens the door, Harry palms the door, slamming it shut. "I don't have a boyfriend....or girlfriend." They stare at each other in silence and the sexual tension is getting heavier because their faces are so close together. All Harry have to do is step a little forward and he can kiss Zayn. 

Surprisingly, Zayn makes the first move, locking the door as a precaution then throws himself on Harry, lips first and grabbing both sides of Harry's head. Harry puts his hands on Zayn's waist, pulling him in closer.

"We shouldn't be doing this." Harry mumbles in the middle of the kiss, pulling Zayn with him and slowly walking backwards to lay on the lounge chair. "I'm your therapist." He mentions.....yet he's still kissing Zayn and feeling up on his body. 

Zayn gives an extra push, and Harry falls back on the chair with the other man settling on top of him. They continues kissing, grinding their erections against each other. 

"Zayn...this is a bad idea. I could get fired."

Zayn ignores Harry, kissing from his lips to his throat, slowly moving down until he meet at Harry's crotch. "This look really painful. Let me help you out." He unleashes a button then unzips Harry's black pants, pulling it down then mouths at the cock tenting underneath the boxers.

"Fuck." Harry moans from the heat of Zayn's mouth. He feel like exploding right now. Zayn licks at the covered tip, wetting up Harry's underwear with his saliva. His fingers plays with hem of the boxers, and Harry can't handle the teasing.

"Please." He chokes out and Zayn smirks, finally pulling it down. His eyes is set on Harry's cock sticking out to the side and twitching repeatedly. "Do something."

"When was the last time you got head, Dr. Styles? Hm?" Zayn breathes on Harry's dick, and tingles shudders through Harry's body. His head fell back from the feeling and he closes his eyes. "You asks too many questions today, Zayn. It have been....a long time." He admits.

"Dr. Styles, how bad you want it?"

"Fuck, Zayn. I'm sitting here with my dick out! What else do you need?"

Zayn smiles up at him, eyes gleaming from playing a little game with his therapist. "Alright."

And it was about time. After eight months of no sex, no oral, vaginal or anal activity, it was about fucking time and Harry want to enjoy it thoroughly, holding his come and making Zayn work for it. Zayn takes his time, licking the head first and tastes the leaking precum. This is the second cock for Zayn to suck.

The first cock he had was a little smaller than Harry's but it was good enough and easy to suck. So far, he sucking more and harder, putting more further to his throat and he's choking. Harry winces at the feeling of Zayn's choking, loving the vibrations going from his dick to the lower area of his body. 

"More...come on, baby. More, Zayn." He moans, wiggling his hips in a circular motion, purposely poking his dick on Zayn's cheeks.

Zayn pulls off of Harry's dick, trying to breathe. "I'll give you more if you fuck me." His eyes are glossy and his lips are redder with saliva hanging on the side of his mouth. There is nothing sexier than a man who looks like this, asking to be fucked. Who is Harry to reject such a thing?

"Deal. Get to it then." He nods down at his dick and Zayn continues the blowjob. He tries to lick in circles as he sucks, looking up at his therapist with puppy eyes with a hint of sin in them. They blinks slowly, shifting to view Harry's cock to Harry's face. The expression of his therapist's face is priceless.

Zayn can feel the come attempting to eject soon, with his tongue. The veins on Harry's cock pulses harder than it did a few minutes ago and his chest heaves more. "Fuck, oh fuck. Swallow me....I don't want to leave a mess." Harry mentions. Zayn kept his mouth on Harry's cock, waiting for the come to shoot in his hot mouth.

"Shit, shit! Zayn!" Harry hopes that he isn't being too loud. It would be embarrassing if Farrah had heard him. So he brought his tone to a minimum as he comes, finally. The taste of his come is fascinating and a bit different to Zayn. It's sweeter and more creamier. He likes it.

He didn't mind swallowing, since Harry told him to do it. "Fuck me now?" Zayn asks, trembling. He's hard and he needs a release. He've been hard since the moment he saw Harry's erection.

Harry is breathless, looking down at Zayn. His hair is mussed up and his lips are redder and swollen with saliva and come hanging on the side of his mouth. Harry presses a finger there, wiping it then sticking it in Zayn's mouth. "Tell me how I tasted?"

"Delicious...you were delicious, Dr. Styles." Zayn blinks his eyes slowly again, speaking with an innocent tone that drove Harry to insanity. A man acting as innocent after he just sucked a cock and swallowed semen is sexy, hot and tempting. Zayn pulls down at his own pants, freeing his hard cock. His legs are as skinny as Harry's. He's smaller and thinner; perfect for being a bottom partner. 

There is a lack of lubricant since this situation was unexpected. If someone had told Harry that he were going to get some ass today, he would have went out and been prepared, stocking his drawers with lubes and condoms and maybe some toys; just to fulfills his own kinks. Sadly, he isn't prepared. They have to improvise.

"Suck." Harry stucks two fingers in Zayn's mouth again as Zayn settles back on top of Harry, grinding his hips down, letting his dick kneads against Harry's semi. "Fuck, you're so sexy, Zayn. Can't wait to be inside you." His fingers is coated with enough spit, he believes, then gently pushes them in Zayn's asshole. He didn't expect Zayn to be so tight so it was a scorching struggle to open him up. They really needs lube but he's _so_ horny and he want to fuck him badly, desperately so Zayn could come and scream his name.

Harry whines as if he's a puppy from impatience. Zayn understood so he takes a risk.

"Just do it. I'm ready." God bless Zayn for being a trooper. Harry didn't waste time, aiming his cock in Zayn's ass, pushing in slowly. He hisses at his cock being tugged by tight and warm heat with little wetness. It burns but it feels good and he wonders how Zayn feels.

"You alright?" He whispers, containing his urge to move already. Zayn sat still, keeping his eyes closed as he attempts to adjust. "Yeah, yeah. Just....hold on." 

Harry waits for two long minutes, 

Finally, Zayn tests himself, pulling up slowly then slamming back down on Harry. " _God_ , ah fuck..you're so big, Dr. Styles." He rests his head on Harry's shoulder, riding slowly and moaning as Harry just sits there and groans from pleasure. He wouldn't mind doing some work so he thrusts along with Zayn, making him scream.

"Babe, don't scream....my assistant is out there." Harry mentions. Zayn kept his head on Harry's shoulder but he nods, still riding. He only lets out little whimpers and short breaths as Harry goes faster, hitting Zayn's prostate at every thrust.

"I won't last." Zayn warns. His thighs are starting to get sore. He's not used to riding. Harry notices and decides to do the rest of the work, fucking upward into Zayn and holding his waist in place. "You're so tight, Zayn. Your boyfriend isn't fucking you good enough, babe."

Zayn throws his head when Harry places a hand on Zayn's cock, stroking it in a fast pace. He have this chance to see Zayn's face; it's so pretty and gorgeous. "Looks so good...you're so-" Harry got cut off by the sound of the doorknob jiggling. Both men stops what they was doing and turns their heads at the door.

"Dr. Styles? Are you alright? Why is the door locked?" 

Damn Farrah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of deleting this. Eh, i don't like it...


	4. The First Pay

“We’ll be done in a moment! He’s crying and he doesn’t want you to see him!” Harry shouted, feeling alarmed because he was that _close_ to getting caught. Oh, just imagine…imagine if Zayn hadn’t locked the door in the first place. Harry would have lost his job, gained a bad reputation and he would drown in extra debt due to lack of a job….all because he cannot keep his dick in his pants.

“Oh, okay then.” Farrah leaves, returning to her errands. If she’s honest, she thought that was odd but chose to brush it off. Harry sighs from relief while Zayn laughed as if that was the funniest shit ever.

“The fuck are you laughing for? We could have got caught.” Harry shuts Zayn up by thrusting upward suddenly. Zayn gasps because he had forgotten that Harry is inside of him still. Then he moans, placing his head on Harry’s shoulder. “Please….just...let’s just finish.” He’s desperate to get off and so is Harry; he begins fucking him again at a fast pace. They don’t have much time left and Farrah is likely to come back.

“Want me to finish you off?” Harry holds on tightly to Zayn’s hips with his hands, squeezing on the soft skin and feeling the bones underneath. Zayn’s body is perfect, slim…zero body fat. The tattoos intrigued Harry as well but now he’s focused on coming inside of the tight asshole.

“Yes, Dr. Styles. I want to come….make me come. Please, please, I need to come.” Zayn whines then pants, causing a spot on Harry’s chest to be warm. Harry never thought that he would be so turned on by a man’s begging for release…out of nowhere, he felt like it was his duty to comply to Zayn’s needs instead of his own. Originally, Harry wanted Zayn badly. He wanted to have sex to the boundless amount with such a gorgeous man, in order to satisfy himself and from the spell of no sexual activity.

The plan was to focus on himself.

But being the person that he is: thoughtful, considerate, putting others’ needs first and always listening…which are perfect skills for a therapist. Therefore, he was perfect for the job.

Due to his skills and his characteristics, the tables had turned and his goal is to make Zayn happy. Even if that means making sure that he comes first or perhaps he needs a kidney.

Harry is willing.

So he placed one of his hands on Zayn’s dick, jerking him off again so he could come immediately. “Come for me, Zayn. I bet your boyfriend doesn’t fuck you like this. Does his cock feel like this?”

Zayn just got a burst of tingles and he loves it. “ _No_ , Dr. Styles…you are bigger and _better_ ….shit.” He hops slightly, riding Harry yet trying to allow his dick to be stroked properly. He’s squeezing his eyes shut and they begin to hurt. He can’t help the way his body is reacting, chanting quietly on Harry’s right shoulder. “Uh! Uh, fuck, uh, _Dr. Styles, fuck, fuck!”_ He’s on the verge of tears when warm come shot out, spilling upon Harry’s stomach. “Goodness…oh wow.” Zayn laughs, then his breaths came out shaky because he’s still sensitive. Realization hits him then he continues riding Harry since he didn’t the chance to come. It was hard and painful, riding the semi-monster of a cock, keeping the composure and ignoring the sensitivity. Harry leans back further, enjoying the ride and loses himself. He already made Zayn happy and now it’s his turn.

“Fuck, yes….faster, babe. You can do it. Ride my cock, Zayn.” He whispers in case of Farrah being nearby.

Zayn goes faster and his legs shakes. Maybe he can’t handle it or maybe he has to come again. Harry isn’t going to wait any longer to find out. All it took was extra thoughts to motivate Harry. His come splashes inside the cavity, nearly spilling out and leaks down his cock. “Oh, fuck…that was amazing. Quick, but amazing.”

Zayn stops riding, and rests finally, laughing some more. “You have a nice cock. I didn’t expect this but I liked it.” He shares, looking into Harry’s green eyes. Both of them are smiling at each other, feeling the highs of orgasm. Harry doesn’t feel much of his hangover anymore. Zayn on the other hand, he’s pretty sure that he likes cock. He just now labeled himself as bisexual.

“I have to go…and you have to clean up, I see.” Zayn stated, giggling as he stood. How can a man still be so adorable after he has just been such a naughty man a moment ago? Harry gestured to a tissue box on the table so Zayn could clean himself. Harry does the same, grasping a few tissues to wipe the wet sins off of his stomach and dick. He shudders from sensitivity when his hand comes in contact with his dick but he shook it off, knowing that he has to straighten himself up.

It didn’t take long to get the clothes back on. Harry checks in the mirror on the wall, fixing a few strands of his hair. Zayn does the same, then double checks his appearance, tucking in his shirt a bit more.

“Oh wait. Hold on.” Zayn reaches in his pants’ pocket then pulled out a wallet and searches for something. He takes out a hundred dollar bill, giving it to Harry. “That’s for you.” He smiles, putting the wallet back in his pants.

Harry stutters because…

“I thought you already paid for the session through debit…with Farrah. You paid through Farrah, right?”

“Oh yeah, I did but that….that can be like, your tip or whatever. Please accept it. I enjoyed the sex so much and I felt like owing you that.” Zayn didn’t even let Harry respond to that. He gave a pat on the back to his therapist then left, unlocking the door and opening it. Harry is astounded, with mouth open and furrowed eyebrows.

 

 

He just got paid…..for having sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still thinking about deleting this... -__-


	5. Congratulations, You're A Prostitute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ain't much happening here. Just a comical convo between Harry and Zoe. But trust and believe me, there will be much action and sex happening in the upcoming chapters

“Zoe, I have to tell you something that’s really important.” Harry’s sat at a table in Starbucks, with both giant hands clasped around the Grande sized Mocha Latte with two extra shots of espresso. His hands are almost shaking but his feet and legs are practically dancing under the table. He can’t help the jitters; not from the coffee but from the secret he has been hiding to himself for the past couple of weeks.

Zoe is oblivious to Harry’s state so she rolls her eyes, using her hand to speak with her annoyed tone of voice. “I swear to God, Harry. If this is about your dick or sex or anything that’s related to sex, I will not hesitate to punch you in the dick. I’ve received the message more than enough times.”

“Oh, shut up. Come on, Zoe. Listen….just.” Harry took his hands off of his coffee and placed them on his crotch…

Just in case.

He made a face, pursing his lips because he’s already imagining how aggressive Zoe would be if he told the secret. “I had sex.” Then he puts up his index finger to stop her from exclaiming her reaction, which is…of course…pure shock. “But wait…let me explain.”

“Excuse me? With who? When? How? Where? Guy or girl?”

All of the questions asked by Zoe sent a message to Harry. Okay, great. So she’s not mad or disturbed by the fact that he got laid because fucking finally, right? Harry doesn’t have to whine about sex anymore. Whoop de doo.

“Slow down there.” He whispers. Although, there aren’t many people around to hear their conversation, Harry acts as though he’s sharing top secret. “It was a guy. It was quick, meaningless, sexy and hot and…”

He sigh, feeling safe about his dick so he puts his hands back on his coffee and takes a sip. After licking his lips, he looked into his friend’s dark brown eyes with lines of black eyeliner and gold eye shadow. “Wrong. It was wrong. I did the wrong thing, Zoe. I mean, I didn’t intend for it but it just…it just happened and.” Harry has never felt so frustrated explaining shit.

“He paid me. He fucking paid me.”

Zoe’s face is neutral. “You got paid for having sex? Like a prostitute?” She giggles and gasps altogether, nearly collapsing of ridiculous sounding laughter. “Jesus fucking Christ, Harry. I knew you were horny and desperate but I didn’t think you were _that_ desperate. Fucking…” She shakes her head in her usual judgmental way that always drives Harry insane. “Well, at least you gave the money back, right? Because you’re not that type of guy.” She sounded so sure, feeling arrogant because she knows who Harry is. They have been friends for a long time and it _has_ to be accurate about Harry giving the money back.

“Uh..” Harry mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hands. He doesn’t say anything. He just lets his awkward silence do the talking.

Zoe finally understood and Harry received an unexpected hard nudge at his dick from a sneaky and small fist under the circular, sleek table. He groans, trying to recover.

“ _Goddamn it, Harry!_ ” Then she claps her hands as a sarcastic joke. “Congratulations, Dr. Styles. Not only that you’re a brilliant and great psychologist but you’re also a fucking prostitute. Where did this happen anyway? In the streets or your apartment? Please don’t say the streets. You’re worth more than that, you know.”

He sighs again. “In my office.” He received another and much harder nudge to his dick. “Okay. You _have_ to stop punching me.”

“I don’t give a fuck. You _fucked_ a _patient_. And got paid for it. It’s bad enough to take advantage of an emotionally distressed person. Overall, that person could have used that money to benefit his own life, not yours.”

Harry feels like a child getting a lecture from his mother but then he got offended when Zoe said that last sentence. “You don’t even know my life. I have bills to pay. I have to take care of my mother and I have these fucking student loans…honestly, the money helped paid my phone bill this month. If it wasn’t for Zayn, I wouldn’t be able to communicate with the people that I need to communicate with.”

An eyebrow rose on Zoe’s face. “His name is Zayn? Shouldn’t that confidential, you fucking up piece of crust?”

Harry smacks a hand on his forehead. “Shit. Sorry. Don’t tell anyone. Especially my supervisor. Shit.” He bites his fingers, regretting every bit of this conversation. He wants it to end.

Just a few seconds ago, Zoe was harsh but now she’s being understanding, holding onto Harry’s hands with her own. “I don’t even know who your boss is. Anyway, just promise me that you’re not going to do anything like that again. That is the first and last time that you would do that. It’s not worth it because shit like that would come back to bite you in the ass. Alright, Harry? Please promise me.”

Zoe’s right. Harry has already fucked up enough so there’s no point of fucking up anymore. “Yeah, yeah. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this doesn't get much feedback, I will delete this shit
> 
> Update: I changed my tumblr from twistedartist1d to twistmybunsharry.tumblr.com in case y'all want to want chat


	6. Blow His Money

It’s going to be hard to follow Zoe’s promise because Zayn’s session with Harry will start in a few minutes. He’s required to meet with his therapist bi-weekly or whenever he needs to, if it’s an emergency. Harry is prepared this time. Earlier in the morning, he stopped by a CVS and brought Astro Glide lubricant and a three pack box of magnum condoms. He’s only attempting to be responsible and took some precautions.

Maybe for the entire session, they will talk about Zayn’s issues.

Maybe they might fuck. Who knows? It depends on Zayn really.

Harry hid his ‘precautions’ in a drawer of his desk and he’s sitting down, waiting for his gorgeous patient to show up for the second scheduled session. Thoughts of what could happen, goes through his mind and he’s already getting hard.

_No, no…I promised Zoe. I can’t fuck Zayn again._

There’s a knock on the door then it opens after Harry shouted a “come in” and somehow, Zayn looks better than he did the last time. He’s smiling and his honey eyes are literally sparkling. “Good afternoon, Dr. Styles.” He closes the door then locks it. After Zayn’s slim fingers gently turned that lock to the left, making a clicking sound, he had this sort of look on his face; a look that Harry couldn’t identify but he suspects that it is a common feeling of the human nature and one of the so-called seven sins….lust. That’s it. That’s the moment where Harry knew he was fucked and he cannot keep his promise.

“Please, sit down.” Harry gestured at the lounge chair. “How are you feeling today, Zayn?”

Zayn follows the instruction to sit and instantly, his mood changed. The smile is gone. His back is slouched and his eyelids are constantly blinking then he looked up at Harry. “I’ll be honest. Today, I am feeling really, really, _fucking_ horny. I haven’t fucked…. _him_ in a while. And you know what? Ever since you fucked me so properly that day, I couldn’t stop thinking about you and how much I wanted you again.”

It may not seem like it but Harry is losing his shit. Deep down inside, he’s screaming. His erected dick isn’t helping anything.

“Zayn…please.”

“Harry… _please._ ” Zayn is obviously playing a game too.

“No. You call me by _Doctor Styles_. Okay? We have to keep this professional.”

“Fine. I want you again, Dr. Styles. Do you want me?” Zayn had stood up, walking closer to Harry. As he did this, both of his hands plays with his own jeans’ button and zipper. He plucks the button out of the hole then slowly pulls down the zipper and Harry can see a teaser of Zayn’s pubic hair.

_Holy fuck, he’s not wearing underwear._

“Zayn…I can’t. It’s against the rules and it’s practically illegal. What we did, was a mistake and it cannot happen again.” Harry can’t believe that he has found the courage to say all of that to his tempting and alluring patient. Even Zayn looked shocked. He stopped playing with his jeans and backed up for a few inches.

“Are you sure?” He ask, amused.

“Yes. I am sure.”

“What if I paid you more this time? Would you fuck me then?”

Harry stutters and he has never stuttered in his life. “Wh-wha..what are you…”

“What’s the highest you would ask for? The best I could go is five hundred, probably. Would that make you fuck me?” Zayn takes out his wallet to prove it, pulling out five bills with _100_ printed on each bill. “Is this okay?” He asks for confirmation and he’s hoping that Dr. Styles would say yes. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of the money that is being held in Zayn’s left hand. Having sex with Zayn would be great but getting that extra bit of money would be greater because he could add that money to his checking account and be able to pay off his bills and student loans.

He looked up at Zayn with blown pupils, biting on his bottom lip. That desperate, money-hungry side of him has been released and it won’t stop until it is satisfied.

He answers Zayn’s question with a question. “How do you want it?”

Zayn’s smile returns. It’s more of a smirk and it makes him look like a cocky asshole but Harry likes it. “Blow me first.”

Harry dropped to his knees on the floor faster than an average man’s usual length of an orgasm. He had trouble pulling down Zayn’s jeans because they are so tight and form fitting. His long fingers struggles to get a firm grip on the not-so-stretchy material but he’s managing to pull it down to Zayn’s knees.

“Tight ass pants. Damn it, Zayn.” He lowered it enough to get a full view of Zayn’s cock and extra room to suckle on his balls….if that’s what Zayn is into.

No. Fuck it. _Every_ man _is_ into that.

A thing that Harry does when he suck cock or eat food or put anything phallic in his mouth, he always goes tongue first; then he wraps his lips around it second. He doesn’t do it on purpose; it just became a habit. It’s natural. It is natural for him yet sexual from other people’s point of view. “How does it taste, Dr. Styles?” Zayn just had to ask, raising an eyebrow as he holds in a moan. Harry didn’t even bother to respond verbally because he heard the sarcastic tone in Zayn’s voice then he flicked up a middle finger, continually licking around the head. If he’s honest, Zayn tastes like soap and coins. He uses coins as a specific because he can recall tasting a penny for the first time at the age of six. It tasted awful and very metallic, leaving a bold aftertaste in his mouth. So the Zayn’s precum is somehow in a weird way, a combination of soap and coins. It’s not exactly enjoyable but it’s bearable because the soap substance tones down the ‘coins’ taste. Harry realizes that sometimes, ‘bearable’ semen can usually bring down a man’s ego.

He stopped licking, looking up at Zayn with sincere yet lustful eyes. “You’re more delicious than I thought.” Zayn smiles after that and Harry is sure that his patient is feeling cocky deep down inside. Before getting back to pleasing Zayn, Harry takes off his shirt so it wouldn’t get messed up….or stained in this particular case.

 

 

“That makes everything better.” Zayn comments quietly.

“What?”

“You...being shirtless. I like your tattoos. Makes you look hotter while blowing me.”

Harry blushes. He’s not sure if it’s visible to Zayn or not. “Oh.” That’s all he says then his pink tongue and reddened lips goes back to business. Again, the tongue goes first, licking right under the head and leaves a small patch of saliva. He’s just now starting and Zayn’s legs are buckling.

 _My mouth has magic powers…_ Whether Harry is giving a blowjob or doing taxes, he can be a dork and humour himself in his mind. He wants to chuckle but there’s a dick in his mouth unfortunately. He absolutely can’t wait to share this with Zayn though so that he can make him laugh.

If he could.

His mouth fully covers the head, slowly moving forward and Zayn’s shaft nearly becomes hidden. It’s not too long or big; just the perfect size of six inches…possibly a little less so Harry could handle deep-throating it if that’s what Zayn wants.

 

 

“I’ll give you an extra fifty if you do it all wet and sloppy like a….like a porno whore. Please.” Zayn sounds desperate and his breathing pattern starts changing. “Spit and all. Not giving a fuck. Be sloppy for me, baby, please.” He says in a rush but Harry understands. He had to definitely take off his pants because he really doesn’t want excessive spit on his new, expensive pants. He unbuttons a button then unzips the zipper, quickly pulling it down with both hands then he chucks them over his desk. Now, he’s stripped down to his black boxers while Zayn is still standing with his dick out, pants down to the ankles and his shirt still on. His hands are clasped together behind his back because he doesn’t feel comfortable being hands-on while being blown.

Harry makes a comment in his head. _I look like a prostitute now…for sure._ Then he shrugs his shoulders because the best outcome of this situation is the money being made and his bills will be paid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for typos if there's any.


	7. Behind Closed Doors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 3am.... I had to get this out before I fell asleep. That's why it's short.

There's an odd sound coming from the office room and Farrah's attention is undivided to that sound. She couldn't make it out the first time, sitting at her desk, editing an invoice for her boss. The second time she heard it, her head turned and her stomach gurgled because it was a familiar sound so she got up, walking closer to the closed door and has heard the sound again for the third time. 

"Dr. Styles? Is everything alright in there? It sounds like someone is throwing up."

"IT'S FINE, FARRAH! THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONCERN!" Harry shouted but it came out as muffled. Farrah feels offended in a way but she knows that whatever that is going on behind the closed door isn't any of her business. She shouldn't pry so she sat back down at her desk, finishing the invoice.

****

"That's embarrassing." Harry whispers. "She heard me gagging on your cock. Just fucking great." Tears are stained on Harry's face while his eyes are red and wet as if he's suffering from a severe allergy. He didn't think that he would salivate so much but his mouth became Niagara Falls as soon as he was sucking Zayn properly, shoving the cock in his throat as well ....like a dirty porno whore. That's what Zayn wanted.

"You don't have to anymore....if you don't want to. It would suck if you lost your job due to your creeping assistant." Zayn informs, rubbing a thumb on Harry's cheek. He can see how red Harry's face is and he's even more turned on. "You look beautiful."

Harry didn't expect that from Zayn; being a gentle 'dom'; the way he looks down at him with soft eyes and his lingering finger slowly massaging on his right cheek, just below his eye. It's strange but Harry loves it and it fits Zayn perfectly. Zayn just isn't that type to be too rough or demanding. Yeah, he would get what he want but in a way where the submissive can feel like he's not being used. Harry doesn't feel used. He feels cared for and that is utterly ridiculous. 

That 'beautiful' compliment made everything ten times worse. He's not used to compliments or being called beautiful.

"Uh...thank you?" It's obvious that he doesn't know how to accept it. "You're not falling in love with me, are you?" He asks as a joke, chuckling as well to show it as humour and not as a serious question. But Zayn doesn't laugh.


	8. Nothing but Want and Trouble

“Of course not. Don’t flatter yourself.” Zayn chuckles, looking down at Harry, who is still on his knees. The skin on his knees is becoming irritated from the rough texture of the carpet. He’s not used to this and he hadn’t sucked dick in a while so he hopes that Zayn wouldn’t mind the rustiness of Harry’s experience.

Harry’s mouth twitches into a snarky smile, showing a dimple because he’s slightly offended. “Well, geez. Thanks for the brutal honesty.”

“No, I mean. You are beautiful in a way where…look where you are now. Your face, you’re on the floor, sucking my cock and you look vulnerable and whatnot, being in the position that you’re in. It sounds cliché but you really look beautiful this way.” Zayn tries to validate his thoughts while still holding onto Harry’s face, being as gentle as possible. “My point is that you’re a beautiful but ‘fuckable’ person. Are we clear? I just want to fuck you and you want to fuck me. At least, you’re getting a little bit of cash on your side. There would be no falling in love or any deep meaning.”

Harry realizes that Zayn just stated some ground rules for their relationship. He didn’t even ask for them nor did he expect for them to form a relationship other than a professional and friendly one. But he simply nods, accepting the ‘no emotional strings attached’ rule. He’s only Zayn’s therapist and fuck buddy….paid fuck buddy.

Zayn takes his shoes off and pulls his pants off completely, now being half naked with his shirt on. “Got a condom this time?” He asks, walking over to the lounge chair. Harry finally stands, wincing at the pain on his knees. He looks down to see red patches on them but ignores them so he could answer Zayn’s question. “Sure.” He walks over to his desk and behind it, opening one of the drawers. Taking out the lubricant and condoms, he then closes the drawer and goes to sit down on the lounge chair along with Zayn.

“I have common sense.” Harry comments as he opens the packet, taking out the condom to cover his dick then he pops off the cap of the lube. “Of course I do…’Got a condom this time?’ Pfft, you don’t even know.” He mocks Zayn then gives a menacing grin. “Turn over so you can get what you came for.”

Within a second, Zayn follows the instruction and quickly rotates his body to lie on his stomach. Harry took notice about Zayn’s body. _Holy fuck, he’s so small and skinny and toned. He’s just skinny as fuck._ Zayn clearly has the body of a twink; the way he instantly arched his back, showcasing his ass more as he spread his cheeks open. “Fuck me rough. Use me. Do…do whatever you want with me…please.” Zayn requested, already losing his mind because he planted his forehead on his arm, grabbing onto the small pillow that is there as decoration for the lounge chair. His knuckles are on the verge of white and his dick is red, grinding against the velvet chair. “Touch me. Why aren’t you touching me yet?”

Harry feels bad and he also feels like an idiot because he spent that bit of time staring at Zayn becoming a vulnerable and horny little fuck yet he looks really, _really_ gorgeous; it’s turning him on and he could have used that time to begin prepping him but then he realises… “You look beautiful this way.” The tables have turned and Harry doesn’t feel like an idiot anymore. He smirks when seeing Zayn look back at him with an annoyed expression on his face.

“Fuck you and fuck me. Now. Please. Just..” He’s grinding harder but only to tease Harry. It doesn’t affect him yet but it makes him grin wider.

“Sorry, babe. I just had to take advantage of the opportunity.” He squirts some lube on his left palm then drops the bottle on the floor. After dipping a finger in it, he places it on Zayn’s asshole, simply teasing the rim.

“Whatever….I rather you take advantage of me.” Zayn mutters under his breath. He relaxes his body, literally pushing his ass back so that Harry could finger him open.

“Eager then.” Harry says, raising an eyebrow. His index finger slides in, coating the inner walls of Zayn’s ass.

Zayn continues to grinds his lips, basically throwing his ass back against the finger. “Don’t be surprised.” He moans, closing his eyes to enjoy the feeling. “God, yes. Add another. I can take it.” Harry takes out that index finger then dips the middle finger in the small pool of lube from his left hand. He slowly and gently enters both fingers inside of Zayn, stretching him out enough so they could both enjoy this. He finally uses the left hand, grasping his cock under his boxers and strokes it while getting it wet with leftover lubricant.

“I’m not supposed to be doing this again…but you’re just so irresistible…and quite influential.” Harry fingers Zayn properly, pumping in and out but not completely out. He pulls backs a bit then pushes it back in, nearly touching the prostate. Zayn just lies there and moans louder each time. He’s trying to not scream so Farrah wouldn’t disturb them again.

“You _do_ have a choice, you know…” Zayn somehow manages to say to Harry, considering the fact that he’s in a state of pure ardor and want of his therapist. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to though.”   _I want you. I wanted you before and I want you again._

“Then fucking prove it.”

The boxers came off as quick as lightning, being thrown across the room. Harry found a position that’s comfortable for him yet effective for Zayn to be fucked well; he lies on top of Zayn with both of his legs on the sides of Zayn’s. It’s pretty much of a lazy doggy-style or what the mainstream sex experts would call it, ‘over-the-table’ position.

He plays with the rim first, grabbing onto his dick and slides the tip around to maneuver inside. “Want me to prove it, huh? Is this what you want, Zayn?” Without warning, he pushes in and completely bottoms out, causing Zayn to tense up and pull back. His asshole is even tensing, squeezing on Harry’s cock and it plays with Harry’s mind but he’s now aware of how he wants this to go. “No, no, no. This is what you wanted so stay in your position, babe.”

 

Zayn listens, relaxing his body again. “Fuck. You’re so big and…I didn’t expect that.” Now, he’s no longer tensed and Harry begins fucking him at a slow speed so he could get him worked up. Zayn kept his eyes closed while Harry looks down, watching his dick go in and out. It’s erotic to look at; like an actualy good quality amateur and homemade porno. The close up of Zayn’s ass and the way his cheeks makes smacking sounds…they have a nice and thick cock fucking in between them and it’s just so _fucking_ erotic and dirty…

That’s how Harry feels about it.

He leans in and covers Zayn’s body completely so he could speak to him. He’s going to whisper everything so Farrah wouldn’t hear. His mouth is a mere inch away from Zayn’s left ear and his words comes out as breath-y and slow with a slight growl behind it.

“You like being taken advantaged of? Being treated like a slut?”

Zayn doesn’t respond; he’s too deep in his own, little world. He snapped out of it when Harry suddenly gave a deep and harsh thrust.

“Answer me. You like being used, huh? Don’t you?”

“Yes.” Zayn cries. “I _love_ it.” Harry chuckles as if he’s a heartless douchebag, treating Zayn as a sex toy but he knows that this is one of Zayn’s kinks; to be ‘used’ and ‘controlled’. “Fuck me harder, please. Harder.”

Harry doesn’t change his tempo immediately. If Zayn wants to be controlled then that’s what he will get. “No. You’ll get fucked the way I want you to be fucked. For now, I’m going to tease you.” He slows down, literally just dragging his cock. It’s painfully _slow_ and it’s torture because Zayn can feel everything.

“Please, please…faster. I beg you, Dr. Styles. Oh, god…”

“Shut up.” Harry commands, still fucking as slow as possible. Zayn may be dying but he’s dying too. He’s dying to come but he’s only playing the role that Zayn wanted. “Slut. Whatever I say, goes, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t you want to be used? Did you _not_ beg for my cock? Fucking tell me. You wanted me like this, yes?”

“ _Yes..”_

Harry has never talked like this and he’s enjoying it so much. Zayn’s forced responses give him a feeling settling deep in his gut and a mindset embedded within his skull. _You are mine. Your body is mine._ It’s wrong to think but it’s the pleasure talking. He fucks him faster this time, letting go of the teasing stage. His hands are holding on tightly to the edge of the chair as he watches himself do nothing but pump, pump, pump inside while Zayn is a quietly sobbing mess. There is a tear sliding out and down his cheek; Harry assumes that it’s a happy tear from pleasure.

“You’re beautiful like this…who knew that a slut could be beautiful?” Harry whispers louder. He receives a groan from the man under him. He knew that Zayn wanted to respond with a comeback but he’s not in the place to do so. “Fuck…ing…slut.” Harry thrusts harder with each word and Zayn bites on the pillow, baring his top teeth and a little spit dribbles on the pillow. Harry stops and pulls out, to get in a kneeling position. “On your knees, _now_.”

Zayn complies lazily, grunting as he pushes himself up to get into proper doggy-style. His back isn’t arched much like it was before because he’s looking back at Harry with a sad face.

“Keep your fucking face down.” Harry uses his hand to shove Zayn’s head back on the pillow. “I said ‘on your knees’. Did I tell you to get up?” He thrust back inside of Zayn with no issues or needed guidance of his left hand. “I don’t recall telling you to get up, did I?”

“No.” Zayn grunted. “You didn’t.”

“Apologize, slut.”

He gives one hard stroke, hitting Zayn’s prostate precisely. If only Farrah wasn’t outside the room, Zayn would scream. “ _Fuck, fuck. Fucking shit_ …I’m sorry, Dr. Styles. I’m sorry. _Fuck_!” His eyes rolls back as his eyelids blink rapidly. Zayn doesn’t even care about the burning in his thighs or his head being smothered under Harry’s giant hand. Everything feels so great right now and he doesn’t want it to stop. “More, please, more.” He’s full of nothing but mumbles and begging and submit.

“More what? What do you want?” Harry’s hands are on Zayn’s hips, which are smaller than his own. He can’t get over how small Zayn is and how easily he could break him. “What do you need, Zayn?”

“More of you, Daddy. I need you.”

Harry stops because _that_ did not come across as a sexual daddy kink. He remembers why Zayn was there for therapy in the first place. Zayn's father. So Zayn uttered those words and guilt fills Harry. He isn’t doing his job as a psychologist and this **have** to be the last time ‘using’ Zayn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need feedback because I feel like I lost my touch in writing booty sex.


	9. Make It Rain, Bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title made me chuckle. Did anyone chuckle? no? Just me? Okay..

Zayn turns his head as soon as he notices Harry being frozen. He stopped fucking him and just stayed in the position with his dick still in Zayn’s asshole for a moment then he pulls out. He lets out a frustrated sigh, sitting properly down on the lounge chair while Zayn is still on his knees with his ass up.

“Why’d you stop? Did I…did I do something wrong?” Zayn finally sits up along with Harry. His dick is raging hard, red and ready to burst but somehow, he found a way to ignore it. The case of the blue balls seems to be the last thing that Zayn is worried about so Harry appreciates that low-key.

“It’s not you.” Harry shakes his head side to side, knowing that he is lying. “Well, it _is_ you. It’s about you. It’s...” Harry wants to find the right words to explain for his abrupt action preventing both him and Zayn to have an orgasmic episode. “It’s about both of us. You are my patient and I’m your psychologist. You have issues…that you wanted to talk about and solve but I haven’t been doing my job. You know, I…I shouldn’t be having sex with you. I should be helping you and I just realized that when you…you know, said um...”

Zayn tilts his head as though as he doesn’t understand which is weird because it’s quite obvious on what Harry is hinting at. Did he _forget_ that he just said ‘daddy’?

“Said what?”

“Come on, Zayn.” Harry gets up from the chair, walking to the other side of the room to retrieve his boxers. “You know damn well on what I’m talking about.” His voice strains as he puts on his underwear one leg at a time then he tries to find his pants and shirt. “You said daddy. You called me daddy.”

Zayn makes a face as if he smells a disgusting scent, shrugging his shoulders at Harry.

“So what? Did that turn you off or some shit? If you had told me, I wouldn’t have done that then.”

Harry palms his face, feeling even more frustrated. He doesn’t get like this easily but Zayn is just so fucking oblivious and it seems like he’s doing it on purpose. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. While I was…” Harry fake-coughs in his hand then continues his awkward sentence, “Fucking you. I asked you what you needed. Then you responded with _needing_ your _daddy_.”

Zayn stares at Harry with a stern frown and a confusing glare.

 _He still doesn’t get it._ Harry sighs again, sitting down next to Zayn. “You remember what you told me over the phone after making the first appointment? You confessed to me that you had problems with your dad and that it was affecting you.”

Zayn’s mouth forms an ‘o’, indicating that he has finally got the message. He leans back, looking straight in front of him instead of making eye contact with Harry. He laughs, unexpectedly, with his chest and stomach hiccupping and a smirk drawn on his face. “Yeah, I remember. I did have problems with him and you should be helping me but right now, you should fucking me in this chair.” Zayn leans in near Harry’s face, looking straight in his green eyes. “At this moment, you could have made me come then you would blow your load all over my ass. Instead, we’re talking about this shit.”

 

“Zayn...”

“Is this conversation going to end soon so we can get back to what we were doing?” Zayn interrupts, and he’s clearly irritated and borderline irrational. Harry really wants to help Zayn; even if that means giving up the extra money that he would make, selling his body. It’s time to do the grown up thing and take responsibility. No more playing and submitting to lust and greed.

“No. It’s not and we’re not having sex anymore. And as a matter of fact, I think it is best that-“

Zayn immediately sat up, then he bends down to get his pants. He puts them on quickly despite how tight the material is. He finds his shoes as well, putting them on his feet. He didn’t let Harry finish what he had to say because he knows what Harry is going to suggest. “I’m out then.” He zips his pants then digs his hands in his pockets.

“Don’t leave like this, please! I’m only trying to help you out and we should have thought this-“ He stops speaking when Zayn suddenly throws money at his face and the bills lands on the floor and one of them is on the couch.

“That’s two-fifty since you didn’t finish the job. Have a nice day. Bye.” Zayn unlocks the door then opens it, leaving out the door. Harry could hear Farrah saying good-bye to Zayn but Zayn is quiet and rude, saying nothing back.

_He fucking threw money in my face. Asshole._

Harry looks down at the two hundreds on the floor then at the fifty bill on the couch. “Shit.” As much as he wants to help and to talk with Zayn, he would love to solve his financial problems just as badly.


	10. Own Up To The Truth

The guilt didn’t stop Harry from picking up the money, counting it properly so that it is indeed, two hundred and fifty dollars like Zayn said in the first place. His fingers flick from bill to bill, counting silently in his head as his eyes scans the large numbers.

Fifty. One hundred. And another.

It’s not enough but he can utilize it regardless. He folds the very small stack in half then stuffs it in his pocket. He rubs his face with both of his hands, feeling frustrated; sexually and mentally. He wish that he could finished off with Zayn but the guilt had hit him hard and thrown him off so badly, his dick had actually softened after Zayn uttered that tainted word….daddy. Knowing that a person has daddy issues yet to hear them say that _word_ during sex is just…it felt wrong, distasteful and it could bother any person who has a conscience.

Harry is type of guy who has morals. He’s a Christian. He believes in wrong and right and he always chooses right. His morals are being questioned and he’s not daring to bring religion into it because he doesn’t have the mental strength to think about it or to argue with himself. It’s not worth the headache, debating with god on his recent actions.

All he wants to do is to take care of his problems. Once his problems are taken care of, he definitely will not do stupid shit like this anymore.

 

 

 

“Dr. Styles? Is everything okay?” Farrah doesn’t walk in the room but she’s standing by the door, her eyes big and curious, looking for any reaction from her boss’ face. “Mr. Malik seemed hostile. He will be okay, right?”

Harry knows that she is genuinely concerned but since he’s in a bad mood, he snaps and gives her a dirty look, glaring at her as his jaw clenches visibly. “It’s none of your _damn_ business. You _know_ that whatever goes on between my patients and I, are confidential. Don’t worry about it.”

She scoffed out of shock. Harry has never spoken to her as that way before. She mutters “whatever” then walks away, going back to her desk. She then remembers another patient that should come to the office soon. She goes back to open door, speaking in a firm voice. “Another patient will be here in a couple hours. May I take a lunch break?”

Harry rolls his eyes, shaking his head from side to side. He tries very hard not to say profanities in front of his assistant. “Sure. Go ahead.” So Farrah takes her purse from her desk and leaves the lobby. Harry is left alone with his thoughts of Zayn and lust, his culpability and the condemnation of his character.

****

For an unfrequented two hours, Harry laid back on the lounge chair, staring up at the ceiling most of the time. His eyes didn’t move except the occasional blinks. The subconscious part of himself controlled his hands though, because every ten minutes, they would end up sneaking over his crotch and lightly teases his cock under the fitting material of his pants. Then he would stop himself due to self-awareness. Although he is lying down, and it is still day time, he could have fell into slumber but his mind was too active to slip into a dormant state.

Hours ago, he was fucking a beautiful man in his chair, giving him what he wanted in trade of having his own issues gradually fixed.

Just hours ago, he was begged to, feared and lusted for.

Harry pushed asides his feelings. He stepped outside of the comfort zone and crossed boundaries just to satisfy that man. He enjoyed doing what he did to Zayn and the money is just icing on the cake, if he’s honest. But participating in that controlling role and admonishing to a submissive man sexually, literally gave Harry adrenaline. Of course, he already concluded that it is endorphins of his mind going off but right now, he’s thinking about it all at once and he’s actually getting hard.

He could either make his erection go away or he could ignore it. Ignoring a hard cock is a more painful and annoying option though. Just as soon as he changed his mind, planning to get himself off, Farrah’s tiny head popped up at the door. His hand moves away from his crotch and he closes his eyes in embarrassment. Farrah didn’t seem to notice anything, _thank god._

“Your patient is here! Should I send him in now?”

“Yeah, uh, give me two minutes then send him in.” Harry requests, instantly sitting up then stood, walking over to his own desk so he gets his papers prepared. He also checks his appearance in the mirror, making sure that he’s presentable at least. It’s nearly a sin to look as a sloppy psychologist. He can’t recall the last time he did a breath check but now would be a good time to do so. He breathes in his palm then sniffs. It doesn’t smell bad so he’s okay.

Unexpectedly, a man shows up at the doorway. The door is wide open, fixated inside of Harry’s office. “Hello?” His voice is shy but deep; it’s deep enough to catch Harry’s attention and to turn his head. All Harry could is see is blue, blue, blue fucking blue eyes and blond hair but dyed at the ends. Dark haired men are preferred in Harry’s internal book of preferences. Usually, he doesn’t care about eye color but if the man or woman has dark hair, then fucking excellent.

But the man standing in the doorway….he makes blue eyes and blond hair work well. He seems to be young, probably twenty-three or twenty-four years old, wearing light blue jeans and a buttoned up, white shirt.

“I’m here for the four o’clock session. I’m Niall Horan.” Niall enters the room, getting comfortable already as he stuck out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Styles.”

Harry has to remind himself to be polite and responsive so he shook Niall’s hand.

“Likewise. I’m glad that you’ve made it. Please sit.” He gestured at the lounge chair then his face made a disgusted expression and he hoped that his new patient didn’t see it. The fact that Niall has to sit on that chair adds to Harry’s guilt. At least, there’s no visible come stains on it, he thought. “Why don’t you start by telling me a bit about yourself then explain why you are here.”

Niall sits on the chair, and becomes slightly distracted by feeling on the material of the chair. He smiles to himself then apologizes. “Sorry. Your chair feels nice and I got a bit of a short attention span. You can add that to the list, ha.” He chortles, and his smile is wider, nearly showing his teeth. He went from reticent to already outgoing and Harry definitely likes him so far. Harry sits in his standard chair, holding onto a notepad and pen.

“Anyway, I’m from Cali. I moved here to Chicago six years ago. Uh, I love sports and hanging out with my buddies from time to time, you know, having some fun. I used to work as a journalist and wrote on the sports column of the newspaper and I coached little leagues. Now, I just have temp jobs and I’m struggling to pick myself up from where I was, months ago.”

“Where were you, months ago, Niall?”

“Drunk, passed out in the middle of a freeway and almost ran over by a car. I’m here ‘cause…you know, I have a drinking problem. I’m sort of a, uh….an alcoholic. My AA coach suggested that I should come here because she believed that I had a deeper issue with my drinking like, it’s probably psychological but pfft, whatever. I didn’t have a bad childhood or anything like that. I’m fine, you know? I just like to drink. Can a guy enjoy a drink?”

Harry smirks, shrugging his shoulders. “Of course you can enjoy a drink. I have to ask you this though, Niall. Before you drink, what usually happens? Is there something, like a trigger? Can you recall anything that always usually happens before you start drinking excessively?”

Niall stops making eye contact with Harry and stares up at the ceiling. He crosses his arms, fidgeting for a bit. “Uh, no. I don’t think so. I never thought about that.” He rubs his face as he said that, avoiding eye contact still. Harry isn’t an idiot.

“You’re closing off on me, Niall. Are you telling the truth?”

“Of course I am. I’ve got nothing to hide. If there were anything to recall before I start drinking, then I wouldn’t remember….’cause I’d be drunk as fuck.” Niall laughs, hoping that Harry could humour him but Harry just simply smiles, writing a note on his notepad. Niall notices this, rolling his eyes.

“Geez already writing up on me? After we’re done, you’ll probably have a list of any possible problem with me. I bet I’m going to be your favourite one so far.” Niall remarks.

“Favourite what? Patient?”

Niall shook his head. “Nope. Fuck-up. Or favourite….anything. Whatever floats your boat.” Niall then sneezes, turning his head so he could avoid spraying his germs towards his psychologist.

“Bless you, Niall. You good?” Harry might be weird for thinking this but he found Niall’s sneezing so cute. He would actually pay to see it again. Maybe he is weird then.

Niall sniffs loud enough to be obnoxious, and observes the room slowly as his blue eyes scans every corner on the wall and each thread on the carpet. “Yeah, I’m good. You should dust your office a bit more. Allergies and shit, you know? Those dust mites would get ya.” Harry makes an offended face, because he’s a clean freak. He always keeps his office or his home or his car clean. He thought about retorting but goes back to his professional side.

“Let’s move on then. Tell me about your childhood. What was it like growing up?”

Niall’s face changes from confident to neutral. The smirk that he had is gone and his eyes slightly bulges. It’s obvious that he’s taking a moment to think; thinking about the right words to truly describe his childhood so he wouldn’t seem to exaggerate it or make it a bigger deal than it was yet to make the subject seem minor. It’s hard to find the right words.

“Now that I’m thinking about it…and I never thought about it before but…I had a shitty childhood. Shit.”

 

 

 _Five minutes and he’s already breaking ground._ Harry thought in his mind. And it’s a good thing too because usually, an average person would be too afraid to move forward or to make changes or to go back into the past. His former patients have actually become overly-emotional when realization about a certain topic would hit them. Niall being compared to them is like a child’s tantrum compared to a hoard of animals going on a stampede.

“What happened in your childhood?”

“I have parents. Two of them. And I have an older brother. People thought that we were the picture perfect, happy family but…I always felt so _alone_ and lonely and empty. I felt…ignored. I didn’t feel cared for. It never crossed my mind that a kid would feel the way I felt but it’s possible. I know that now and it sucks big time.”

Harry nods. “You mentioned feeling empty. Like there’s a hole inside of you that needed to be filled?” Niall nods, pursing his lips as he blinks slowly.

“Maybe that’s why you drink. To fill that hole with alcohol.” Harry spoke with one of his hands, feeling proud that he may have solved Niall’s problem so that Niall can finally help himself get better. At first, Niall’s expression is still neutral then it gradually changes to a smile and a deep sound erupted from his mouth. He’s laughing as if he just heard the funniest joke, almost falling off of the lounge chair.

Harry is confused but he laughs anyway, just to humour Niall this time.

“Holy shit. That’s great. That’s….yeah.” Niall wipes the tears out of his eyes with his fingers. “That’s just very original. _That_ is the answer to all of my problems, right? Because I feel _empty_."

“It is the answer, Niall. You just have to accept it. If you’re not willing to accept it, then your problems will never go away. Come on, own up to the truth. You have an emotional void and alcohol helps fills it. I know it sounds cliché therapy talk but that is the answer.”

Niall calms down enough to listen, sitting back further on the chair, clasping his hands together. “So what do you suggest that I do now?”

“I highly suggest that number one: you stay from the booze, obviously. Two: you’re going to share more with me about the moments where you felt ‘empty’ and three: we have to work on talking to your parents about this….or getting them here.”

Harry’s advice makes Niall sigh deeply. “This will be a long process then. I don’t mind the parents part but it’s just the booze….it’s hard to stay away from it. I’ve been trying to look for a better and healthier alternative. Like drinking more water and tea...chewing gum, even yoga and painting. But they don’t fucking work. I mean, if there was a much better way to get over trying to drink, then I would try it. Shit, I’ll pay for it.”

Since Niall has said that last sentence, an invisible light bulb on the top of Harry’s head had suddenly lit up.

 

 

 

“How about sex with me?”

“What?”

“Huh?”

“You said….sex…with you.”

Harry’s eyes became big and his hand covers his mouth, dropping the notepad. “I said that out loud?”

“Yeah.” Niall says with a chuckle. He just seems curious now. He’s not shocked or offended, like Harry would expect him to be. Niall appeared to like that provocative question that Harry just asked.

“You want to fuck me, Dr. Styles? That’s surprising. I thought you were a straight guy.”

_Not again...no._

“Forget what I said and I apologize because that was inappropriate of me. I’m very, very sorry and….just please _forget_ it. Can we move on?” Harry is pleading but he doesn’t want to. The truth is, he do want to fuck Niall. He’s attractive, for goodness’ sakes. He has a nice laugh, big personality and all…but what if Niall is straight? That would make him feel bad and stupid.

“Come on….own up to the truth.” Niall teases. “Aren’t you going to take your own advice?”

At this point, Harry does not care about being professional. It’s like something inside of him is snapping. It just takes the right words and actions to trigger it. So far, Niall’s doing a good job at it. “You’re a dick. Don’t use my own advice on me.”

“Just admit that you want me.”

“No.”

“You do want me.”

“I don’t want you.”

Niall’s cheesing too hard, the lines on his face could become permanent if he doesn’t stop smiling like that. Harry is almost finding it as creepy. “You want to be my alternative….don’t you? Having sex….using your body. That’s fucking genius because even though you’re my therapist, you would still be helping me out. We’re talking about my problems _and_ you can help me avoid drinking.”

The way that Niall explained it, it does sounds like a somewhat rational idea but it’s still wrong. _It’s just wrong._ Harry took advantage of Zayn already so he can’t do it to Niall. “It will never happen between us".

“Why not?”

“It won’t happen because...I charge extra.” Harry is disbelieving the words that came out of his mouth. He sounds like a true prostitute, which was never his intention or motive. A side of him that he never knew about, is the one to blame. It’s a side of lust, greed and selfishness. The side is so reckless and is bound to destroy his moral side.

“How much?” Niall asks anyway.

“Five hundred.” He holds in a breath, waiting for Niall’s response to that. Perhaps, Niall will change his mind or act as perplexed because maybe he couldn’t afford it. Besides, this doesn’t need to go any further. It has to stay professional.

“That’s great. I’ll run down to the ATM real quick then we can get to business.” Niall sits up from the chair, going to the closed door already. Before he opens it, he sent a wink to Harry and that’s when Harry knew that he is really fucked.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whatcha think?


End file.
